


Stay Warm

by Chaotic_Dawn



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 14:25:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3137636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaotic_Dawn/pseuds/Chaotic_Dawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running for his life after losing the battle, Saix ends up being saved by the last person he had expected. Of course, like most things. What starts out as bad, can turn into something very good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Warm

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I love ya bb! Thank you so much and I hope you love it~  
> This is for the lovely Mis-Kitty (Mis--Kitty)

He just can't run fast enough, not in this form, and he can only hope he's gotten far enough away. With the rain sprinkling down through the trees, his scent should be fading away quicker than normal. And if he's lucky, his pack – old pack – just plan to run him off instead of hunt him down like the dog he is.

The wet grass and dirt has him slipping and sliding, unable to stay steady on his feet. His scratched and bruised hands clutch at the trees as he continues on. Lungs burning and muscles aching, he knows he can't go much further. His golden eyes desperately scan the trees and shrubbery. The blood that runs down his face makes itself apparent as he licks his lips and swallows hard – the metallic taste resonating on his taste buds.

The man ducks down under a low-lying branch and skids to a halt. Two trees twining together with bushes of varying size huddling around their bases. It's perfect. He sinks down within the small, damp haven and huddles against the trees. The rough bark scratches against his skin, but he can barely tell. That pain is nothing compared to the pulsating sensation that makes him feel like his cranium is splitting wide open. Crimson coats much of his face, hiding the 'x' shaped gash it came from. Other various scratches, bruises, and nicks speckle his body.

He draws forth a quivering hand and pushes the long, cerulean hair away from his face. It sticks to the sweat-slicked skin with ease and even more so to the blood. Breathing heavy, he tries to curl up as tiny as possible – trying to hide himself from anyone that might pass by. The bushes around him tickle against him and make him want to itch, but he doesn't move.

Moving could mean death.

Closing his eyes, he prays for the rain to continue well into their search. And with a final shattered breath, he slips away from reality and into the comfort of a painless dream.

\----==----

Pale blue lashes tremble against his skin before daring to open. Hazy amber eyes stare directly up at a wooden ceiling – trying to focus while his mind catches up to being awake once more. Fingers twitch back to life only to realize they're beneath several thin blankets. Even from under them he feel the chill of winter invading this space. He draws a hand up and rubs at his face, groaning softly as his fingertips come into contact with something soft.

Bandages wrap diagonally over his face – where the gash had been – and upon further silent inspection, he can feel several more dressing other wounds along his frame. A battered sigh leaves him as he closes his eyes. He doesn't care where he is. If he's allowed to rest, he's going to take every ounce of it before he's on the run again.

“Hey! I saw that, don't you dare go back asleep. I need to redress your wounds or they'll only get infected.”

The scolding, yet gentle voice, reaches his slightly pointed ears and he can't resist the curiosity. Surely another pack hasn't rescued him. Better to find out now, then, who has come to his aid. Sitting up, he turns his head towards the source of sound. And he finds himself a little.... disappointed?

The man before him hardly looks like another of his kind. In fact, he's scrawnier than most normal humans. Slender fingers hold a damp washcloth, keeping it from dripping on the wooden floorboards. His stature is lean yet he holds himself with a tall confidence. Only one bright aqua eye is visible with the other being covered by his blue-gray hair. The long, layered bangs fall over the right side of his face while the rest of his hair is cut short about his neck. He dons a plain white, v-neck shirt with strings tying the two sides together in a neat bow. Dark brown pants cling to his legs and end in sturdy coal-colored boots.

He stops at the edge of the bed and their eyes lock. The collected gaze of the human settling on him. The thought of this human tending to his wounds, it's laughable. Instead it makes him scoff, to which the human draws his brows together. Although there's no question, only demands as the human brushes it off. “Stay still.”

He doesn't bother to swat those hands away as they begin to untie and take away the white wrappings. They're scarcely speckled with red and he enjoys watching the human's face contort into confusion. The bandages drop into a pile in his lap and the human takes a shaky step back. The man can only stare as the washcloth slips from his grasp – landing on the floor with a wet splat.

It's then that he sees the look in the human's eyes. The look of someone who can't ebelieve what he's seeing, who might very possibly fear what's before him. Mentally reprimanding himself, he watches as the man's lips part just ever so slightly and he knows he has to stop whatever is about to happen. He does not need to be caught so soon.

The blanket flutters to the ground over the washcloth as he lurches for the human. He tackles him to the floor and easily subdues him. He's much larger than the small man beneath him – who is as still as a board. He is easily able to grasp the two wrists in one hand while using the other to cover the man's mouth.

“If you scream, I'll kill you.” he growls out, a deep guttural sound vibrating in his throat.

And much to his shock, the man inhales deep through his nose and closes his eyes. The mere act perplexes him. Never has a human acted this way. As if the small moment of flustered shock hadn't happened. The man snaps his eyes open and it's then that he realizes that the hair has fallen to the side. Two bright crystal blue orbs stare straight up at him, silently agreeing to the terms. Slowly, he removes his hand from the man's mouth.

“Tch... I wasn't going to scream.”

“Your face said otherwise.”

The human lets his eyes roam and as they dip down, they shoot right back up. He closes his eyes – pinching them tightly shut.

Another growl, “What?”

Red stains the man's cheeks, “Just... get off. You,” he turns his head to the side and opens his eyes. “I need to get you some clothes.”

Despite the collected way the man speaks, he can see how obviously flustered he his. His face looks as dark as freshly split blood. He shakes his head at that thought and sits up, releasing the man's hands. “That's not necessary. I'll be leaving-”

“No. You will not.”

He stares down at the human, who still barely meets his eyes now that his muscled body is completely on display. “Excuse me?”

“The reason matters not. Even if the wounds are healed, your body is not. I recommend you stay for at least a day or two in order to recuperate your strength. The middle of winter will be here soon and you're going to need it.”

He juggles the words in his mind. The human makes a fine point, one he can't be stingy about refusing. Especially if he'll be provided somewhere to stay, food and clothes. And it's not like he can't handle a human if things got out of hand. Yes... that does sound like a good plan. He stands up and extends a hand to the man. “Saïx.”

Those pale fingers wrap around his and he pulls the man to his feet. Although he does notice that the blush darkens even further. However, he turns immediately and moves over to a large trunk at the end of the bed. “Pardon?”

“My name.”

“Ah. And you may call me Zexion.”

Zexion...

He rolls the name over in his mind. Unable to stop himself, he wonders if this Zexion is alone. Perhaps an outcast to the village and therefore why he has no problem assisting someone that heals far faster than any human. The slam of the trunk closing brings him back to reality.

Zexion holds out the small pile of clothes, not so much as looking at him. “As for payment for my hospitality, you'll tell me about yourself. Is that a fair trade?”

Saïx cuts his eyes away and begins to slip the clothes on. “Fine.” They're much more comfortable fitting than he had expected, especially with Zexion being so petite compared to him. Still, he slides the pants and shirt own. Even though he finds them constricting if anything.

“Come.” the smaller man demands. He proceeds to lead Saïx to a rather rough looking wooden table with two chairs. Zexion gestures for him to sit as he begins to grab for a couple of glasses and bowls. It's then that Saïx notices the old wood-fed stove and the small pot atop it. “You may begin.”

Not desiring to tell him the whole truth, but realizing it's a win-win situation he doesn't hold back. It'll be the most he's talked in years. And if he's lucky, he won't have to kill the human as he tries to run for the other villagers.

“I was forced out of my pack for trying to take leadership. I barely escaped with my life. Running out of energy, I transformed into my human shape and hid in some bushes.”

Zexion turns back around and if he's surprised, he doesn't show it. He takes each word as if he's heard it every day. He sets a bowl and glass before Saïx before handing him a spoon. Once he's sat down across from the blue-haired man, Zexion raises a brow. “So then you're a werewolf?”

“And if I am?”

“I could care less.”

They stare at each other – waiting for the other to make a move. Anything. But Saïx merely dips the spoon into the porridge like substance and brings it to his lips. One bite. Two bites. Before he dares to speak again.

“And you found me how?”

“It wasn't hard. A naked man in some berry bushes is hardly hiding.”

“It was dark.”

“And you were desperate. You're lucky to be alive. I had to barter with the blacksmith to even carry you back before you froze to death.”

“I'm a werewolf, we don't freeze to death from a little rain.”

Zexion waves a hand and takes a bite of his food, “Fine, bled to death.” He lifts the glass next and a long swallow later he's already giving Saïx his next commands. “Once you're done I'll show you where everything is.”

The remainder of the meal passes by with limited chatter. Saïx grumbled about wanting nothing more than to leave – not wanting to have to live with a human. But Zexion paid it no mind and kept eating. On the other hand, Zexion spoke little of his life. The only details Saïx pried away was that he was an orphan, granted to keep his family's home since it was so close to the forest edge. No one wanted it anyway.

Apparently, the young man made his living collecting herbs and berries. Then he would make remedies to treat the other citizens of the petite town. Yet he never spoke of friends or colleagues. And Saïx assumed that it was because he's the orphan. The ill-omen that lives far away, but close enough to help when needed.

After they ate Zexion showed him about the small hut of a house. The whole area is connected and the only privacy is the bathroom in an adjoining room. The four windows are shielded by thick gray curtains that have lots of patchwork done to them. The stove serves as the makeshift fireplace and rags are placed along the bottoms of the two doors leading to the outside to keep the chill out.

Over the next two months, Saïx helps out in every way he can. And Zexion doesn't dare to ever ask when he's leaving. The days are filled with Saïx taking care of all the hard labor and obtaining small jobs throughout the town. In the meantime, Zexion carries on with his normal routine. To which he always has two places set at the table. He'll sit there and just as he starts eating, Saïx will enter and sit down with him.

And the whole time, Zexion has never said a word to anyone about Saïx. He's merely covered it up by saying he's a traveler that he happened upon. The blacksmith that helped Zexion that morning is a quiet man to begin with and says nothing about any of it.

Of course no one cares as long as no harm is being done.

The front door shuts with a hard slam as Saïx shakes the snow off. He strides straight for the stove and places the firewood he carries onto the stack beside it. Zexion only spares him a glance before returning to his meal. Even though the bowl is empty, he still stares into it.

Saïx pretends not to notice and sits down. As he eats, Zexion glances at him before hurriedly standing up. The whole time Saïx eats and then prepares to lay down on his pallet on the floor, Zexion is poking at the fire. He scoffs at himself, “Dammit.”

Listening closer, Saïx tilts his head. “Something wrong?”

“I doubt the fire will last through the night. This wood is rather low quality.”

Saïx drops the blanket he had been folding and makes his way for the door. That is until Zexion spins around.

“And where are you going?”

“To get more wood.”

“Nonsense, I don't have time to take care of you if you get sick.” Zexion states as he marches over to Saïx, blocking his path to the door.

Saïx cuts his eyes away, “Idiot. You're the one that needs the fire.”

Zexion snaps his gaze back toward the fire, he moves straight for it and settles down. He places another log into it and places a metal screen over it, just in case a log shifts and dares to roll out. Before he can even blink, Saïx is upon him. Those strong, muscled arms are scooping him up like a child.

He glares up at Saïx and shoves at his chest, “Put me down!” But Saïx only grips onto him tighter as he marches over to the bed. “Dammit Saïx! I said to put me- Oof.” Dropped onto the bed, with a slight bounce, Zexion continues to hold his glare steady. That is until Saïx shoves him over toward the wall, Zexion fussing the whole way. “W-What do you think you're doing?!”

Saïx lies down beside him, settling into a comfortable position even as Zexion fusses with the blanket and tries to push Saïx away. He watches, in what can only be masked amusement, as Zexion begins to climb over him. It's the only way out of the situation and Zexion is more than determined to take it. “This is just ridiculous.”

Not realizing what he's doing, Zexion pauses as he gets ready to slip off the bed. He doesn't quite realize just where he is or how he's straddling Saïx. But the latter does and as he looks up at the slender man atop him, something shifts inside of him. The glow of the lamps silhouettes him and Saïx can't take his eyes off him. Those crystal blue eyes glare at him with such a ferocity that Saïx can't resist either.

He reaches up and grabs at one of Zexion's hands, taking those cold digits in his warm ones. “Where do you think you're going?”

“Back over to the fire.”

“Pointless. There's no wood left. Lay down.”

Zexion tries to pull his hand away and even goes as far as placing his other on Saïx's chest in an effort to gain some leverage. The second he does, it's as if lightning has struck him. His fingers still completely as he realizes just what their predicament is. He does his best to hide his fluster under a calm facade. But Saïx can still see it.

Zexion glares at him despite the blush beginning to grow on his cheeks. He turns his head, allowing the veil of hair and the angle to mask his face completely. “If you really wanted to keep me warm, wouldn't your wolf form be more... useful? Not that I want to smell like dog in the morning.”

And that's the last straw.

Saïx flips their position in one fluid motion, trapping Zexion beneath him. He leans down, hovering his lips over Zexion's ear. “This form is more useful than you think.”

His heart beats loud in his ears as he stares up at the ceiling. He's almost afraid Saïx will hear it. Zexion pinches his eyes shut as hot breath grazes his ear. Teeth nibble softly at it and he can't stop his hands from grasping at his shoulders, “S- Saïx!”

But he doesn't stop. He tugs at the high-collared shirt and pulls it down so he can get at Zexion's neck. Saïx licks at the supple skin before drawing up to Zexion's face. He half expected there to be fear in the human's eyes. But there's nothing of the sort. The only thing remaining is a hazy, cautious lust. Made even more evident by his slightly parted lips.

Saïx brushes the hair away from his face and leans down, embracing Zexion's lips in a rough, passionate kiss. It leaves the latter's lips bruised and aching for more. Their mouths meet again and again, each time deep than the last. By the time Saïx finally pulls back, Zexion is panting shallowly.

Using his teeth, he pulls the collar of Zexion's shirt back down and begins to leave kisses and small licks all over the flustered skin. His hand drags down over the thick material and slips beneath the hem. As he brushes his hand up Zexion's chest, he pulls the shirt up as well.

Zexion's nails bite hard through the shirt on Saïx's shoulders as the latter takes one of Zexion's nipples between his fingers. The sharp pain isn't completely unpleasant despite the thrashing of his head to the side. He bites hard at his bottom lip to stop the sounds from slipping out. The deep breaths through his nose and how he closes his eyes is the only sign Saïx needs.

He takes his hand back down and slips it into Zexion's pants instead. His fingers dip beneath all the layers to where he touches the warmth of skin and the firmness of the member further below. Zexion draws a hand away at that instant, biting at his finger instead.

Saïx can only chuckle while withdrawing his hand. The first time since they've known each other. But it's lost on Zexion as he craves for Saïx to return his hand. Saïx grasps at Zexion's chin, forcing that flushed face to look up at his. He gently pries the finger from Zexion's mouth, “Don't close your eyes.” The soft quiver of his eyelashes as he opens them only partly. Saïx brushes his thumb over Zexion's parted lips. “Not even a little, Zexion.”

The mere mention of his name has a pleasant chill surging up his spine. Zexion allows Saïx to lift him up as Saïx moves to the side as well. He doesn't have to say a word as he reaches for Zexion's shirt, pulling it over his head with a gentle tug. As he turns to his own clothes, Zexion meagerly removes the rest of his. Part of him can't believe what he's doing – what he's allowing. Of course he had been admiring Saïx from a distance, but what sits next to him is something he's seen many times. And yet this time, this time alone, he finds himself just as hot under the collar as the first time.

Saïx, despite finding it rather... cute, takes Zexion's actions as the consent to go forward. He reaches out and cups at his face, “Do as I say.”

The sole command that has Zexion melting in his hand. Saïx turns toward Zexion and brings a leg up onto the bed between them, allowing the other to hang over the side. The sight of Saïx's member standing at attention has Zexion's gaze shifting to the side before looking back up at Saïx for direction. He's never done this. Possibly heard the gossip. But this... Saïx gestures downward to himself, “Lick.”

A shiver reverberates over him, but it's not from the chill. That alone is completely forgotten as he leans forward, laying on his side against Saïx's leg. He brushes his hair back behind his ear before reaching out for the base of it. His fingers curl around the heat as he closes his eyes, sticking out his tongue. It's cautious and slowly, each tentative lick to the tip.

Saïx runs his fingers through Zexion's hair, a silent command to not rise just yet. He can feel the blood pumping quickly through his body as Zexion coats his member in saliva. Realizing any more will send him over the edge in due time, he tugs on the strands between his fingers. “That's enough.”

Zexion straightens back up and wipes at his mouth. Saïx watches every little movement. He reaches out and brushes his palm over Zexion's cheek, drawing him forward until their lips meet. Their tongues mingle between their parted lips until Saïx ends the kiss.

He guides Zexion into position; on his knees with Saïx poised behind him. Saïx leans over him, reaching one hand around. He presses two fingers into Zexion's already open mouth. Diligently, Zexion closes his lips around them and proceeds to suck on them. A moment later Saïx is retrieving them only to press one fingertip between Zexion's cheeks. The taught opening to his rear relaxes as Zexion exhales.

In that one instant, Saïx plunges one saliva coated finger inside. Zexion gasps, “Nnh...” But Saïx doesn't stop their. He wiggles it around until he can get a second on inside. By the time he has the third digit pressing in to join, Zexion is panting with his head hanging low.

Zexion grasps at the sheets until his knuckles turn white. It's when Saïx goes to pull them out that Zexion moans, body arching down towards the bed. The sensation gone, he lowers his head – to the point where he can glance around his side to make sure Saïx is still there. “S... Saïx...”

The tip of Saïx's member presses against Zexion and it has the latter balling the blanket up into his fists. Saïx growls at him while grasping at his hips, “Relax.”

He tries, tries to hard to calm down and relax as Saïx wants. But the anticipation has him almost wanting to beg, which he certainly won't. Zexion closes his eyes, “Would you- Nngh!”

Zexion's head throws back as his eyes fly open. Saïx, sheathed inside of Zexion, tightens his hold on Zexion's waist. The latter pants heavily, even as they try to turn to moans, “A... l-little.. warning.”

Saïx pulls out halfway and Zexion has to hang his head. As the blue-haired man thrusts back into him, Zexion arms quiver under the strain of holding himself up. He falls down to his leaning on his elbows. Saïx continues to pump into him, dragging out each sensation to the fullest before pushing back in as deep as he can go. And each time he has Zexion writhing beneath him in pleasure.

Pausing slightly, Saïx reaches forward and wraps his arms around Zexion's middle. He lifts him up and situates him on his lap, in turn forcing him deep inside. Zexion can do little but lean back against Saïx as his legs lay idly to the side. Saïx braces one hand against the bed, giving up all the leverage he needs, as the other moves around to grasp at Zexion's member.

The touch makes Zexion squirm at first before he starts bucking into it, in time with the one thrusting into him. Saïx growls into his ear, a low guttural noise that barely resembles a voice, “Zex..ion..”

But that's enough.

Zexion pinches his eyes shut as the pleasure hits him like an earthquake. “Sa- Saïx!” Every part of his body tightens and constricts, even his toes curling. He grasps tightly at Saïx's hand, those strong fingers still pumping him even as he cums. As he does, Saïx releases deep inside of him. The warmth that fills him rips another low moan from his throat.

And for a moment, Zexion blanks. The next thing he knows is the that with the bliss still lingering, he's curled up beneath the heavy quilts and wool sheets. The mess they had made is cleaned and he's far from cold. Especially with Saïx holding him close to his chest, arms wrapped securely around him. That blue hair drapes over the tan shoulder and into Zexion's vision. He nuzzles his face closer and in the process he catches Saïx's eyes opening just a little.

Unable to let him win, he mumbles against the warm chest, “I suppose I don't mind smelling like dog...”


End file.
